The Life and Times of Ginny Weasley
by Charlie'sDragon
Summary: Just little snippets of Ginny's life. Please read and review. It only takes five seconds and don't worry if you just say you hate it, I've got pretty thick skin.
1. Chapter 1

It wasn't that she didn't know Neville was brave; he had been Sorted into Gryffindor after all. But when Harry was around, it was like comparing a bright meteor to a small star shining galaxies away.

Then Harry left. Harry left on his noble quest to fight Voldemort, leaving her behind. She knew that she could be just as brave as him, but it seemed that in his eyes she would always be Ron's little sister.

She nursed the flame in her heart for a few months, but soon the harsher reality of life under Snape prevailed. And Neville stepped up and fought and planned and resisted. Best of all, he never questioned that she was good enough to fight. He never tried to leave her behind. They protected each other, as equals. And she realized that maybe she didn't need any flashy bravery to keep her going.

It helped that Neville grew stronger, more self-assured. She saw his occasional forgetfulness as an adorable quirk, rather that as an irritating annoyance.

So when Harry came back after the search for all of the Horcruxes, Ginny was done with Harry. He was brave sure, athletic and kind. But Neville had managed to keep a little sweetness that touched her heart. Ginny realized she didn't need a great hero who rode in to save the day. She just needed someone who would fight for what he believed in, but could still make her laugh at the end of the day. Someone who could be relaxed, instead of intense all the time.

Perhaps Ginny wasn't as brave as she thought she was, but all she knew was that someone a little less damaged was the one for her.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Not mine. Belongs to that positively wonderful woman named J.K. Rowling.

**A/N: Please read and review! I'm probably going to add more even if no one does but- it's nice to know that someone likes (or doesn't like) your writing.**

Hate

He whispered all that he had made her do. Each terrible deed told in that same level tone.

It hurt more than anything else that he could do; but that was what he did best. Pick out the thing that pained her most- and gleefully use it over and over again.

She hated all that he made her do. Hated the fact that he enjoyed torturing her. Hated the fact that he got great pleasure from her pain. Most of all, she hated the fact that she could not help but love him.

She could not help her foolish heart.

Dementor

_Red blood stained her hand. Bright feathers covered her robes. Tom would not say what had happened- and it felt as if she was loosing her mind._

"Ginny! Are you okay?"

She couldn't nod or speak. It was pulling her down into cruel oblivion, pulling her down through the memories.

_Tom laughed high and hard. "Your heart and soul belong to me!"_

She wouldn't go. She would stay awake- because if she wasn't awake then he was in control.

_The pain of the Crucio curse ripped through her again and again. She fought to the end, unwilling to let herself fall into unconsciousness._

"Ginny! Snap out of it!"

The memories began to recede, a shining light helping to dispel them. But she knew that she would never be truly free from what he had done.


	3. Chapter 3

Percy

He wasn't always the insufferable prat that he is now.

When we were younger, he was my confidante, my comforter, my closest friend.

He would listen to me as I groaned about how no one would let me play Quidditch. It helped that he would never play either.

He cleaned out my cuts and patted my back when I was hurt. He knew when to offer a few words of kindness and when to just sit and let me yell.

He read me fairy-tales, when Mum was exhausted from chasing the twins. He helped me find the perfect names for all of my dolls and was the boy's voices if I asked nicely enough.

In return, I covered for him when all he wanted to do was sit up in his room and read. I played with his little action figures and let myself be the one who always got rescued.

Ron was too close in age, Bill and Charlie too far. The twins were perfectly happy with each other and they would recruit Ron for their little pranks if they needed someone.

So it was me and Percy, both of us a little bit different from the others. I was a _girl_ and Percy was just a bit too quiet and nerdy.

But that didn't matter. We had each other.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Okay no matter what the word count says, this story is exactly 1000 words (not counting the author's note). I don't know why but I am absurdly pleased by this. So this is AU and it may not make any sense at all, but please review.**

If history books are written about Harry Potter, they will most likely put me into them. About how we fell in love, fought together against Voldemort, got married, had several children who we named after assorted dead people, then lived happily ever after in a little house two doors down from Ron and Hermione.

But everyone who lived through the war knows that life can not be swept to the side, placed in a box and neatly labelled. And I know that life isn't like that, perfection and the achievement of everything we wanted.

The truth of the matter is that Harry and I separated for two years after the war. He needed to find some closure, needed to find a way to find himself again, when before his whole life had been dictated to the tune of a prophecy. I had to figure out if it was truly love, to find my own place in the world. I didn't want to be known as Harry Potter's girlfriend- I wanted to define myself. It didn't matter that I missed him, or that I loved him. Life goes on.

I took over Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, when it hurt George too much to see what he and Fred had created, when Ron said he couldn't because he wanted to start a family with Hermione. They had their own version of a happily ever after, with bickering and laughing and a little girl named Madeline who Ron spoiled with everything he had. Under my control, the business grew and prospered. A year after I first took over, George began doing a bit of consulting work for it.

And then one day Harry just showed up again. And he smiled and asked if he could come into my flat. I wanted to curse him or hex him or shout and yell or just give into the temptation and kiss him right there. I settled for nodding, since I was afraid my voice would crack or I would start screaming if I actually said something.

He talked, talked about what he had done the last two years. How he'd lived as a Muggle, patching things up with the only family he had left. I stared at him, then started ranting at him. I think he was a bit a surprised at my choice in language, but he let me get it out of my system. He hugged me close and whispered an apology. And I hugged him back, then shoved him away and dragged him to go and see everyone else.

And it turned out okay. We had a row, at the end of which we both sulked around for a bit. We decided that we needed to get to know each other again, and Harry told me that he was going to bring me on a proper date to the "movays." And for once, he was just Harry and I was just Ginny, and all that mattered was we were in love.

We did get married, in a ceremony that was far too simple for my mother, with only our closest friends. It was probably just as well, since when the preacher said "Ginevra Molly Weasley" Harry started to laugh. Which, of course set me off. The preacher tried in vain to hold in the laughter as well, but in the end we just had to say the vows around their laughs and my giggles.

It wasn't always happiness and laughter. There were times when nightmares returned, when Harry hid in a bottle of Ogden's Finest rather than talk to me, when I stormed out of the house (although I only went two doors down) and stayed with Ron and Hermione when I was extremely angry, and once when a joke from the shop went wrong and I couldn't see for a month. But usually I managed to remember that I did love Harry, that no matter how angry I would get he would kiss me and bake snicker-doodles and I would laugh and say that I was sorry.

We both knew it would happen again, but it didn't really matter. Fights were part of us, and sometimes Harry joked that it was the only way he knew that I was really Ginny if I got yelled and shouted.

And then our son was born, a son who looked almost exactly like Harry except for his hazel eyes. We decided to name him Ethan, because I told Harry that I was not going to have my little boy named for a dead person. He bribed me with snicker-doodles until I agreed to give our son the middle name of James.

Our second child is a little girl named Rachel. I told him that he can choose the middle name again, but he just smiled and told me that I could choose. I went with Ann. Knowing what I do now I should have just made him choose a name.

My poor youngest son! Harry had to go and give him the first name of Albus. I resolve to never ever call him that- he will be Al to the day I die. I also found out that there is no middle name in the world that actually goes with Albus that is not horrible sounding. And so Harry got to choose a middle name- I figured nothing he chose would be as bad as Albus. Of course, he went out and proved me wrong. I am so sorry Albus Severus.

And they grew up, annoying and wonderful, amidst a million redheaded relatives. Eventually they flew (or were kicked out in the case of Ethan) of the nest to find their own story to live.

And Harry and I watched them, realizing that life may have been messy and difficult at times but in the end things usually turned out okay. After all, he was sitting by my side as we grew old in a world ruled by peace instead of the cruelty of Voldemort.


End file.
